Your Arms Feel Like Home

Randy sighed as he sat in a little cafe on a side street just outside L.A. He was very lonely lately. His last relationship had ended pretty badly and since then, no one really did anything for him. He hadn't even gotten laid since they broke up.

Randy took a sip of his coffee, not noticing the brunette that had just walked in. It wasn't until he heard a dulcet laugh was he pulled from his thoughts. He looked over and saw the brunette and it was like love at first sight. He was beautiful.

Shoulder-length brown hair that looked silky and luxurious, hair he just wanted to run his fingers through. Deep green eyes that were like nothing he had seen, but something he wanted to look at every day for the rest of his life. A small, lithe body that looked like it was weak and submissive, but you could tell by the way he held himself that he was strong and could dominate if need be.

Randy hadn't noticed that he was staring, or that the brunette he had been eyeing was walking over to him, a smirk firmly on his face. He also didn't know all that happiness that this moment had created, nor all the pain that he would feel in the future. The near future.

John walked into the cafe. He had just come therapy. He was a sex addict. He used to have sex at least twice a day. But eventually, he realized what he was doing. He wanted a relationship and he wanted help.

He looked around the cafe when he saw a pair of ice blue eyes staring at him as if he were Adonis. He smirked. The man was sexy. He wanted him in bed... but he knew he needed to wait for that.

He walked over to the man, his smirk still in place as he sat in front of the man. "Do you always stare a pretty guys that walk into the cafe while you have coffee?" He chuckled slightly with a raised brow.

Randy snapped out of it when he spoke to him. "What? No. Why?" he said, looking around. He cleared his throat and sat up straight, taking a sip of his coffee.

He got caught. Staring. That was embarrassing. But what he felt for this man, this man who's name he didn't even know, was something he never felt before. He wanted to keep this man in his life. And he would do anything to do that.

John chuckled. "Because I'm pretty sure I caught you staring at me. It's okay... I was staring at you too." He said with a smile. He hadn't felt this way about a man in a long time... he had butterflies in his stomach. That never happened.

"Name's John... John Hennigan. Incase you were wondering." He said, his green eyes winkling.

Randy smiled. "Randy. Randy Orton," he introduced. John was seriously to beautiful to be sitting there in front of him. His smile was captivating. His eyes were valleys of green you could get lost in, and right now, Randy was lost in them.

John smiled. "Randy..." He said, letting the name roll on his tongue. "So Randy, what do you do?" He asked, taking Randy's cup of coffee and taking a sip of it.

"A little of this, a little of that," Randy replied, smiling a bit. "How about you? What do you do?" he added. He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes still roaming John's body.

"I'm a dancer. And no, not a stripper. A real dancer." John chuckled. John was one of the best modern dancers in the country, possible the world. "I work for Lineage Dance." He said, stealing Randy's coffee again.

"That's cool," Randy said, though he had never heard of it. Dancing wasn't something he paid attention to. He paid attention to art, like drawing and paintings. Seeing as that was what he did.

John nodded. "So Randy, ya from here?" He asked, sipping more of Randy's coffee.

"No. I'm from Missouri, actually. Came here for the opportunities," Randy replied, taking his coffee back and finishing it off.

John nodded. "Missouri... I'm a city boy." He chuckled. "I like shopping... love my hair... love tanning. All the cliche LA boy crap." He said with a smile.

Randy chuckled. "Hey, just because I'm from Missouri doesn't mean I'm not a city boy," he replied, crossing his arms.

John chuckled. "Alright." He said with a smile. "You like bikes?" He asked.

"Bikes?" Randy asked. "Like motorcycles?"

John nodded. "Yeah, you into them?" He asked.

"You don't even know," Randy said. He owned about 4 or 5. Most of them were at home. He only had two here. And he had driven one to cafe that morning.

John smiled brightly. "Awesome. I have 4. I have a Black, 2005 Ducati Superbike 749 outside. And I have an old, vintage 1946 Harley UL Bobber at home as well as a newer Harley Davidson and another Ducati, 848." He said.

Randy looked at him like he was God's gift to Earth. "I think I might love you," he said without thinking.

John chuckled and blushed slightly. "Whoa there big boy, you haven't even taken me out on a date." He said with a smile.

"What? Oh, shit, I'm sorry. That was probly a little weird. I shouldn't have said that," Randy chuckled, a bit embarrassed.

"It's okay. I find it adorable." John chuckled. "You gotta crush on little 'ol me?" He asked as took Randy's hand and took out a pen, scribbling his cell number on Randy's hand.

Randy smirked. "Who said that? I was just a little dazed because you're so amazing," he said.

John chuckled. "Aren't you a big flirt." He said and glanced at his watch. "Well, I have a show to get to. It's at the Plaza Theater if ya wanna check it out. Call me, text me." He said, his voice chiming like bells as he got up and skipping out the door.

Randy smiled as he watched him leave. He looked down at the number on his hand when John was out of sight, his smile growing. He got up and left, heading to his studio apartment. How could this day get better?